


Crash and Burn

by UbiquitousMixie



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1649093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She feels like she's on a speeding train that's about to crash. She can do nothing but brace herself for impact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2009 and originally posted on LiveJournal. Comments are love!

Andy is not built for this level of secrecy. Since childhood she's been brought up to be honest, to be forthright, to be a nice, good girl.

She feels like she contains none of these qualities anymore. They've been exorcized from her and have been replaced instead by demons.

She's going to crack under the pressure. She knows she is. It's only a matter of time before she slips up, before she admits something to Emily or, God forbid, to Miranda.

The sex is not even worth it.

Sometimes it is. Sometimes, with Miranda, she forgets who she is and knows only that she's never experienced this level of fervid, dizzy passion.

And sometimes, with Emily, the frenzied dislike carries them through an endless, sweaty night of forgotten differences. There, in the posh bohemian flat in which Emily resides, they establish something very much like common ground. They're equals until dawn creeps through the filmy curtains and Emily asks her to leave.

Andy can't take much more. She can't take the lying and the lack of sleep and the secrets. She can't handle what sleeping with her boss and her coworker makes her.

She feels like she's on a speeding train that's about to crash.

She can do nothing but brace herself for impact.

-

Emily throws away another torn pair of thigh-highs and looks at herself in the mirror above her hamper. She doesn't recognize the woman she sees.

The little girl from London is gone. She eviscerated any memory of her youth and innocence as soon as she began these affairs, if that's what they can be called.

She doesn't know what they are.

Fucking Miranda has always seemed to be a part of her job description. She's surprised it's not listed on the application. _Must be familiar with Microsoft Office, must be able to answer phones and faxes, must be able to provide orgasms on a recurring basis…_

It fills her with pride to see the look on Miranda's face when she comes. This is entirely within her control and there's no way that it can go awry.

What troubles Emily is how easily it was to fall into a sexual relationship with Andrea Sachs.

She never expected to like her.

She never expected to wake up in the morning and frown to see that her bed is empty.

She turns away from the mirror. She can't look at herself anymore. She can't help the shame that coats her empty stomach like hot coals on a fire.

-

Miranda slowly leans back against her headboard, twirling a blue lace thong around her fingers. She doesn't know to whom it belongs, though she knows she would have little trouble discerning their owner if she were to hold the garment to her nose and inhale the heady scent.

She's above such base acts.

She tries to remember which of the two shared her bed only two nights before. These torrid affairs have blurred together like a stain on all of the days that have passed. She does such a disservice to the two of them by forgetting. Miranda likes to believe that she respects them, even if she's using them to cover a melancholic silence that threatens to overtake her every day.

Besides, it doesn't matter if the panties belong to Andrea or Emily.

What matters is that they belong to her -- the panties, Andrea, and Emily.

-

This is not the sort of thing that's supposed to happen in upscale, respectable New York townhouses. This is expected within the seedy, paper-thin walls of a Las Vegas motel.

Andy knows that what's happening here tonight, right now, is something she'll never be able to leave behind. It'll follow her everywhere like a ghost.

She sucks on the hollow of Miranda's thigh, where leg meets pelvis, and feels an irrevocable desire to be the woman she'd been a year ago: the Andy of "Nate and Andy," the Andy who did her job (and nothing but) to the best of her abilities, the Andy who was nice and undeniably good.

She can feel Emily's eyes on her, watching every move she makes, even if she's riding Miranda's hand.

She feels exposed.

She feels dirty. 

Andy can't understand how she allowed herself to end up here, now, with the two of them. Somehow it doesn't matter that she's been sleeping with the two of them and lying about it. The manipulations are laid out on the bed, so to speak.

She reaches a tender hand to Miranda's breast and can't deny the thrill at seeing the nipple tighten beneath her fingers. She doesn't know how she can give this up, this power, this ability to turn Miranda into putty. She wonders if Emily does this for Miranda.

She wonders who Miranda prefers?

Andy stops herself. She can't think about this now or it will eat her alive.

The speeding train is going to derail.

-

Emily decides the first time she sees Miranda and Andy kiss that she's going back to London. It's quite clear that there is no other option. She cannot continue to allow her self-respect and dignity to be dragged beneath Miranda's heels. She cannot allow herself to develop _feelings_ for what should have never begun in the first place.

She can't deny the painful pleasure of sinking onto Miranda's fingers. If this is the last time, she will enjoy it. She will not be jealous. She will focus on Miranda's thumb pressing at her clit and think nothing of Andy making out with Miranda's cunt.

Why is she here? Why did she allow herself to believe that this invitation was for more than Miranda's sole pleasure?

She will quit. No. She will request a transfer and a recommendation for a raise. Miranda owes her that.

She looks sideways at Andy and tries to block out the little whimpers that come out of the brunette's muffled mouth.

This needs to end.

Emily wants nothing more than to respect herself again.

-

A curious feeling overcomes Miranda as she lies on her bed, spread wantonly while her first assistant humps her hand and her second assistant fucks her with her tongue.

A man of fifty-one would be in his element fucking his two nubile assistants.

A woman of fifty-one should also be in her element but, for reasons unbeknownst to Miranda, she is not.

She knew as soon as she beckoned them both into her bedroom that this would end. She knew immediately that there was something going on between the two of them.

She knew immediately that she cared that there was something going on between the two of them.

Miranda looks down at the woman between her legs, her mahogany, doe-like eyes wide with the desire to please. She's always so eager to please.

Miranda wonders if she's like this with Emily. She tries to tell herself that it doesn't matter if she is.

She has not yet come and she wants them to leave. She wants to avoid the tediously awkward minutes of redressing and polite small talk. She wants to see the backs of them heading out her door.

Emily begins to clamp around her fingers and Miranda is rendered helpless as she stares at Emily while she comes. Her translucently pale skin flushes with brilliant color as if she's being engulfed by flames.

Perhaps they all are.

Emily kisses her and pulls back abruptly. She threads her fingers in Andrea's hair and pulls her up and they kiss, Emily greedily savoring her mouth. Something twinges painfully within Miranda as she watches.

She has never felt so powerless in her life.

When Emily lets go of Andrea so that she can position herself behind her, Andrea's face is stricken with confusion and doubt.

Yes. This will be the end.

Miranda will do right by Andrea. She will let her go. She will let Emily go.

She will deny herself so that the two of them will no longer have to.

\---


End file.
